Books Without Romance Novels & Stories

Books stacked on the counter, a plant Sophie had given her that was surviving against all odds, her mother's old ceramic fruit bowl sitting empty because she kept forgetting to buy fruit. He looked around her apartment with quiet attention. "What?" she asked. "It looks like you." "Is that good or bad?" "It's exactly right." He picked up his fork. "You have three books on that counter with the spines cracked the same way." "I reread things." "Which ones?" She hesitated. "Don't laugh." "I won't laugh." "Two romance novels and a book on event management theory." He looked at her steadily. No laugh. "Which romance novels?"

"Yes. Hi. You're Edward?" "That's me. Owner, manager, and occasionally the guy who fixes the broken coffee maker." He shook my hand. "Thanks for coming in. Want to take a walk around while we talk?" "Sure." He led me through the store, pointing out sections. "We're organized pretty traditionally. Fiction, non-fiction, young adult, children's. But we also have some specialty sections based on what sells well here." We turned a corner and I stopped. An entire wall dedicated to romance. And not just any romance—dark romance, enemies-to-lovers, mafia romance, arranged marriage, all the subgenres I devoured in private.

DO CHECK OR ADD OTHER BOOKS OF THE AUTHOR… *REVENGE ON THE MAFIA LORD *JUST ONE MONTH *THE FORBIDDEN ROMANCE YOU CAN ALSO CHECK MY I*******M PAGE, TO SEE THE APPEARANCE OF YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS,TO MAKE READING MORE FUN, PLEASE FOLLOW ME ALSO, IT'S A NEW ACCOUNT… I*******M @Vee_wr_ites. XOXO AUTHOR BLU~VEE.

He said; I smiled, “Thanks, Dad,” I told him. We grabbed our coffees and our muffins and sat at a table. We talked for a while before we decided to browse the books. I found one that I thought was really intriguing, The Sorceress’s Lover. I’m not sure why, but I love romance novels. For the longest time, I wondered why I was only writing fantasy; why not romance too? Dad walked over beside me and nodded towards the book, “Are you thinking about buying it?” He asked; I shrugged,

“The prologue sounds interesting,” I thought to myself before turning the page over. I was sitting on the edge of my window with my nose deep into a romantic book. I like reading but, mind you, only novels and comics. My interest nowadays inclines towards erotica. Goodness, the details they provide. Lord have mercy, I wonder if the men in real life are as passionate as in fiction. I learned a lot of things from those books but never got to put them in practice.

"Yeah, right. Sorry about that. So what do you–" "It's fine," he instantly responded, waving it off. "So what kind of books are you interested in? You seem like the action and mystery kind of girl." It was one of the few times that Henry smiled, and she returned it as well, pretending to think about what kind of books she liked. Eventually, she shurgged. "I like most actually, except romance and science. I find I can't relate to either of them, so I drive towards the ones that seem more realistic. But that's a personal opinion, anyway."

She should have been declared an angel for her commendable feat. She walked around the counter throwing a pile of romance books to Cain that she watched the girls in her pack read, she wasn’t going to help him choose because she wasn’t one to waste her time reading fantasies when she had more important things to think about, like how to find her parents and save them. Bet an erotic romance wasn’t going to help her in easing the swirl of emotions that she was going through at the moment. Walking past the aisles, she browsed through several historical and poetry books before her gaze fell on the aisle that was stacked with cooking books.

I turn around and take a look at those. "They don't feel the same anymore", I tell him. He immediately frowns in confusion. "So, you got bored with ROMANCE?" "No. But there's a reason", I say, leaning against the shelf and placing my palm over the books. Then I slowly trace my hand over them. "And the reason is—" he leans back too, a foot of distance between us but we can clearly hear each other whispering. "People who read romance, mostly women—" I giggle. "They want to escape reality. So, they can find more beautiful things in fiction"

Curiosity was eating at her. With an effort, she made herself focus on the other titles. He had books on negotiating, battle tactics, history, agriculture…boring. Didn’t the man read any fiction? There was a book on stained glass that looked mildly interesting, but she kept scanning the shelves, hoping for something more enticing. Her search was rewarded. There, right in the middle of his shelves at eye level, was an entire shelf of books devoted to lovemaking. Wiley’s eyes boggled as she read the titles: An Illustrated Guide to the Sensual Arts. A Woman’s Climax. Emotional Need and the Sensual Virgin. There were dozens of titles.

And that's enough to make me learn now. What I'm facing is far from romance and more painful. I snorted, looking at the psychology book. I put it back in the row and went back to looking for something interesting. Maybe contemporary novels, but I doubted that Sebastian had those here since most of what I saw were business, psychology, and a few history books. That's boring. I pulled out the back of a black-coloured book with no title. It didn't seem to be fiction or nonfiction—it was like a document book. Curious, I opened it, and there wasn't any title. It just had numbers 12-30. I didn't understand.